


Three Answers

by sinningintherain



Series: Tales of a Captive Elf [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, and a prisoner, and may be one of his captors, and the other offers a hand, answers in exchange for sex, as in one is already desperate for the release
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:55:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25485847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinningintherain/pseuds/sinningintherain
Summary: The human keeps his promise. This time, Valris is less hesitant in saying what he wants. This time, the human wants something in return.
Series: Tales of a Captive Elf [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843447
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Three Answers

**Author's Note:**

> As always, please tell me if the tags are not enough.
> 
> On another note, the story seems to be growing legs and running away on its own. I have no idea where it'll end up, and I still don't know the human's name.

The next day, nobody gets near the pole in the middle of the village and the elf tied to it.

Valris doesn’t know if he should be grateful for that. Humans still stare at him, still point at him and laugh, but none of them gets closer than ten feet.

He doesn’t know what to think of it, so he doesn’t.

The relief brought by the human’s hand yesterday night–as enjoyable and needed as it was–didn’t last. Valris is in the middle of his fertile years, and a simple orgasm–as powerful and all-encompassing and _right_ as that was–isn’t remotely enough to quell the consuming fire in his gut when that damned dummy hilt brushes against his groin with every movement.

Valris’ head is hanging, his eyes closed. He has no energy for anything else. The taste of relief just served to make the torture even more unbearable.

The human said he’d be back. Valris doesn’t know him, doesn’t have any assurance on his word, but he can’t help but cling to the hope that he’ll come back and take him in hand again.

A shiver runs down his spine at the memory of that callused grip. He moans with the remembered snagging of skin on skin, of a thumb on his slit, of deft fingers playing up and down his shaft like they couldn’t seem to find rest. Valris’ cock twitches. His pants are soiled in pre-come.

The bell of the small building that’s probably a congregation point tolls to call humans back to their houses. Valris tries not to whimper at the implications of this.

The warrior won’t come. He’ll have to withstand another night of endless frustration alone, with no relief. He almost cries at the thought.

His balls are heavy.

His cock is aching for release.

Valris wishes the human weren’t a liar like his whole race.

* * *

Valris doesn’t know what woke him up. His mind is fuzzy with sleep and arousal, too slow to process what’s happening around him.

"Hello there," someone says.

Valris jumps, stifles a moan and turns to look into the human's eyes, which are shadowed by a hood. The warrior doesn't seem to be bothered by his reaction, however, for he sticks the torch he's carrying into the ground and comes to sit down in front of him, cross-legged, directly in front of the light. He tilts his head to the side. Valris can't see his expression.

"Need a hand?" the human asks. His tone isn't mocking.

Valris takes a moment to decide that he's not desperate enough to beg. "I do not," he states, willing himself to believe it. His cock is already twitching in anticipation.

The human shrugs. "Suit yourself." He is half-way to his feet when Valris' eyes widen in terror.

"No! No, please, wait!" he hears himself beg.

The warrior stops, one leg bent to sustain his weight and the other still on the ground. "Do you need a hand?" he repeats, still calm as if he were talking about the moon phases.

Valris bites his lip. He can't ask this of a human. He won't ask this of a human. At the same time, his cock twitches again as though to remind him of why he's even considering this.

"Bring me to orgasm," he whispers.

The human gives a startled laugh. "Blunt, eh? I like it." He sits back down. "How would you like me to proceed?"

Valris can't tell if he's being mocked, but he doesn't have the energy to spare. The human's last question has sparked a multitude of images inside his head, one worse than the other. He nearly moans just at the thought of that callused hand inside of him.

"Too many possibilities?" the human chuckles.

"Shut your mouth," Valris snaps. He can't lose himself like this, not in front of this human.

"What about the same thing as last night?" the warrior suggests. "Sure method to make it happen."

Valris holds his head high for just a moment before the need for release wins over his dignity. "That would be agreeable."

"And what about me?"

The elf freezes. "You are more than capable of orgasming on your own," he carefully says.

The human's laugh catches him entirely by surprise. He moans at the friction on his groin.

"I didn't mean that," the warrior says. "It just seems unfair that I get you off and you give me nothing in return."

Is this human serious? "Watching an elf making a mess of himself is not enough for you?"

"Never said I enjoyed watching you come undone." The why— "Answer three question while I jack you off and I'll consider it a fair exchange. I promise I won't ask anything that'd help in the war."

Valris' cock makes the decision for him. "Fine."

The elf quite literally bites his tongue when that callused, expert hand ducks inside his pants to grip him tight.

"What's your name?" the human asks as he begins stroking, much more slower than Valris wants.

His first instinct is to make a name up, but a thumb over his slit sends his head tumbling onto the human's shoulder and his breath panting. "Valris." His voice breaks on the simple syllables of his own name.

The warrior's hand picks up pace, still not enough but infinitely better than the slow torture of before.

"Well, then, Valris. Do you hate me?"

Valris muffles a loud moan against the side of the human's neck. He smells of fire and sweat and rain. "Yes."

"Ah, ah," the warrior chides. His hands almost stops in its movement, only the barest touch now making Valris go out of his mind with arousal. "No lying."

The elf whines, thrusting his hips to chase more pleasure. The hand stops altogether. "No!" he hastily amends. It shocks him to realize it's true. How could he not hate—

He shouts into the human's other hand–appeared almost as if out of nowhere–when the stroking on his cock resumes, snagging and forceful enough to have him panting and on the edge in no time at all.

"Tell me, would you like to get out of these ropes?" the human asks, voice as calm as ever.

Valris frantically nods, and the hand thumbs his slit for the last time.

The elf nearly cries with relief when he comes, even more fertile sperm than last night coating his belly and the human's hand.

The warrior isn't still stroking his cock when he comes to, this time. Valris is almost disappointed at that.

Neither of them says anything while the cloth wipes them clean.

The sheath at his waist isn't tugged once.

"I'll see you tomorrow," the human says, before picking the torch up and walking away.

Valris watches the spot of light go until it turns a corner and disappears from view, then he sags against the pole. The friction of the dummy hilt isn't enough to make him hard again, not with only a brief pass.

He almost hopes the human doesn't come back.

Almost.


End file.
